It was the above comment that set me to find Fr. Allen or Monsignor as he is now.  I found him because I googled the Pope’s visit and after a few emails in which I started to feel like his personal stalker I eventually found a link which he was able to relate to and we started upon a quest to find the Williams with Allen family connection.  Not an easy task, well these things never are.

Firstly, I revisited my link with my 4 x great grandmother Jane Williams, who I had traced back to the 1871 census living with her father and mother at 14 Cable Street, Salford.  Unfortunately for me, she and her parents were born in Ireland.  What?  The whole of Ireland!?  The link to whereabouts in Ireland comes in the 1881 – Kildare, Ireland.

Jumping forward in time, in the 1901 census Jane has living with her three nieces – Mary J; Nellie and Agnis [sic] Williams.  I know that at this point Ellen (her daughter has married Frank Sutcliffe) and her second daughter, Bridget has died.  I can confidently say that this Jane is mine mainly because of her surname.  Conley was not a common name (at least it wasn’t in Hebden Bridge).  The Irish link (although this time it says she was born in Dublin, however as it turns out Celbridge is only a few miles from Dublin) and the Williams surname of her nieces.

This is as far as I had got until a little earlier this year, when Irene said the above immortal words.  It seems that she had inadvertently found the key to the mystery – hopefully the right key.

Through the marriage of Monsignor Allen’s grandparents, Mary Williams and Edward Allen, I found that, as well as Mary’s father also being James Williams the address she lived at at the time of her marriage was Cable Street, Salford.  OK perhaps a coincidence after all Williams is very common name.  Well it was surprisingly, not that common a name in Salford around that time.

Yes, if I was researching Williams in Wales then the family would be almost impossible to trace, but as it was I wasn’t and with the Irish connection I was fairly sure that I was on to a winner.

The next piece of the jigsaw I felt was to trace Mary and her family through the census returns – obvious next step.

Oh what luck, in the 1881 census there are three brothers-in-law living with the Allen family – Thomas, James and Henry.  Two of these brothers (James and Henry) were living with my Jane in the 1871 census with their parents – hurray another connection.

This then set me thinking.  Was one of these brothers the father of the three girls living with my Jane in the 1901 census and if so, why weren’t his daughters living with him?

Off I go again looking for the census returns of the three brothers – I started with Thomas and found him in the 1891 census married to Mary and with three daughters Mary Jane, Ellen and Agnes – oh my heavens we have the link.  It turns out that Mary died early in her life and at the time of the 1901 census he was living and working Rochdale.

I then looked at James in the 1911 census.  I cannot believe my luck!  Living with James and his family is his sister, Mary Allen!

The links couldn’t really be better but of course to be on the safe side I have purchased certificates for verification purposes.

But there is just a little bit of me that still needs to verify that Mary, Thomas, Jane, James and Henry were all born in the Kildare area of Ireland and that they all had the same parents so that I can definately link them all together at one point in time in one place.

It is well known that most of the 19th century Irish records were destroyed and that many of the church records have not yet been transcribed, so it can be virtually impossible to do anything on-line – but, I’m not an intrepid detective for nothing you know.

Through the use of various chat rooms and the following of links I found a way to search the records that are on-line and I’m eventually led to the town of Celbridge and there is an email address.  So off I went again hounding the Irish clergy this time.

To be honest, I did not know what kind a response I would get, after all priests are very busy people and I imagine that they have very little time for genealogy.  But just imagine my surprise when, this morning, I’m greeted with a lovely email from Jim Tancred who had been passed my request and done some research for me.

Not only did he send the details of my Jane’s baptism he has arranged for one of his colleagues to send me further baptismal details – I’m waiting with baited breath for these to arrive…

I’m so hoping that these records finally give me the evidence I need to be fully confident that I’ve traced the right family and I can finally let Mgr Allen know of my finds.

The question I have is this – Irene thought they were visiting Fr. Allen in Shaw, but it seems not, so who the heck were they visiting?

Whilst this particular event happened a couple of weeks ago (I’m a little slow you know) I just happened to stumbled upon Wellington Bomber on BBC 4 and remembering that my Granddad Jack had been an electrician working on these very same planes during WW2, I decided that this would be an excellent opportunity to find out a little more, so I began to watch with interest.

The programme was centred around the achievement of a group of British workers, men and women who set out to smash the world record of building a bomber from scratch.  The workers all based in Broughton, South Wales broke the record beating the previous American one in 23 hours and 50 minutes.

This world record-breaking attempt was filmed as a piece of British propaganda but it has become, I think, an excellent record of the dedication and commitment shown by the workers at Broughton to their ‘boys’ at Bomber Command.

The BBC programme traced six of the workers who were invited to view the programme for the first time.  Their stories and reminiscences were interwoven with the film and the emotion of watching the film was palpable.

The Wellington bomber was described as a ‘special aircraft’, by historian Sir Max Hastings and was held in great affection by those who flew it and this comes across so clearly in this programme.

But for me, amongst all the stories of bravery the star of the show was Flt Lt Rupert ‘Tiny’ Cooling – I cannot really put this into words – his kindness; his sadness; his bravery; his love for his country and countrymen were there in his very being.

‘Tiny’ Cooling flew 67 missions which to put it another way is two official tours of duty plus 2.  When you consider that a Bomber Command crew member had a worse chance of survival than an infantry officer this achievement seems even more extraordinary.

But ‘Tiny’ Cooling’s interview goes further than just giving us ‘the facts’ – he gives us a touching and personal tribute to his friends and fellow comrades.  This poem brings home the stark reality of their lives during this ‘dark time’ and the immense sadness he feels seeing his friends’ names etched in stone.

This muster of names,
This directory of faceless, formless beings
Suffocates the mind.

Is it solely a tabulation as on
pages of Smith’s in volume S to Z?
Or a company of friends
Awaiting recognition
Amidst a legion of Strangers?

In the quest, shadows emerge,
Forgotten faces relive
Brief moments of shared experience
And call upon yet others to be identified …

Now what became of him? And him?
And their names too are
carved in the roster.

I dare not look for my own,
it should be there.

Our Flight Commander, Hinks,
Quiet Ronnie Frost (he joined with me),
Young Naylor who was lost in the North Sea …
Was he twenty when he came into my room
and cried like a baby the night Bob Hewitt died,
leaving a pregnant wife?

Three weeks later
I helped to clear his room,
And found his Bible by his bed.

I had responded to an email asking for volunteers to write a book review for the Who Do You Think You Are? magazine entitled Hebden Bridge – A Sense of Belonging by Paul Barker.

When I received the email saying that my kind offer had been accepted I immediately regretted sticking my head above the parapet but there was no going back, the step had been taken.

I sat down to read the book and the pressure built – I could not think; I found that I could not absorb any of the detail – I was constantly trying to analyse.

The hardest part was starting my 250 word review but after a while the words came easily – you’d be surprised how quickly the words mount up.

Barker’s description of Lumb Falls, I found particularly interesting, as it features in Ted’s photo collection and through Barker’s description, colour and atmosphere was brought to life.

“… the cool stream, Crimsworth Dean beck, tippling over rock in a graceful cascade.  This is Lumb Falls.  The water creates a pool deep enough to swim in, but only wide enough for a few strokes.  Green ferns and dark moss line the cascade.  A thin stone bridge crosses the stream at the head of the waterfull …”

“… a place for picnics … a place of memories…”

Lumb Falls also provides the back drop to ‘Six Young Men’ by Ted Hughes; his poem a poignant reminder of the futility of war and the fragility of life.

I am glad I took the leap and I would definitely review again.  Go on …. jump …

]]> http://familypast.wordpress.com/2012/05/24/who-do-you-think-you-are/feed/ 0 familypast first on left Walter Sutcliffe with group at Lumb Falls http://familypast.wordpress.com/2012/04/06/sutcliffes-the-mystery-branch/ http://familypast.wordpress.com/2012/04/06/sutcliffes-the-mystery-branch/#comments Fri, 06 Apr 2012 10:24:38 +0000 familypast http://familypast.wordpress.com/?p=417 Continue reading →]]> There has been one very elusive branch of my family tree – the Sutcliffes.

Yes, I know that my great grandmother Sarah Ellen ‘Cissie’ was a Sutcliffe, and of course I’ve been able to trace her parents and so on using the basic certificate and census routes, but contacting and getting a feel for their lives and their stories has been so much harder.

If you consider the close proximity of the Sutcliffe branch to my own twig and then take into account that I’ve been researching for 13 years and have only now got in touch with some of my ‘Sutcliffes’ that tells you just how difficult it has been to get close to them.

Yes, my Dillon great uncles were able to tell me about their cousin Keith and back in 2001  I found an address for him but unfortunately Keith could only give me the names of his  cousins; they had not stayed in touch with each other.

My good friend Janet found me through the Todmorden and Walsden site in 2005 and what a fantastic person she is to know.  Her husband is my 2nd cousin, twice removed on the Sutcliffe side and they still live in the Todmorden area; they have shared their knowledge of the family and Hebden Bridge.

It is again Edward’s photos that have unlocked the Sutcliffe’s hidden locations in this never ending quest for answers.  I found Irene through a chance discovery on the genesrunited site.  My contact turned out to be Irene’s brother-in-law and he put us in touch.

David has also been ‘rediscovered’ by Janet he was hiding in the Hebden Bridge area, but, I understand, he is very keen to be in touch and share in our new found family connections.

Although there is still a long way to go, many of the unknown faces now have names – Edward’s photo album is becoming alive with the family’s shared memories.

Hebden Bridge and its rich history has already given me enough to keep me busy for a long time and I hope to visit there soon and stay in the Old Town where once my family enjoyed this beautiful and rugged land; but Hebden Bridge has now taken me into new and uncharted territory – I have volunteered to write a book review for the Who Do You Think You Are? magazine.

I’m excited and a little nervous, yes I’ve written articles before and they have been read, I think, by readers of our local family history society but this, this magazine is read by millions (probably)!

What an absolute joy it would be to stumble upon an archive of images showing the wedding of our parents, our grandparents and so on backwards in time.

Our obsession with the colour scheme, the venue and the ‘how can I out do the last wedding I went to’ philosophy is a recent, not altogether attractive trend.  In the ‘good old days’ the colour scheme wasn’t the most important thing in the world and only 20 years ago favours were what people did for each other rather than what guests  received at their place setting.

But, thank heavens some couples keep the things that are most important – family and friends – close to heart of the day.

The coffee table book of the wedding that Darren and myself recently photographed arrived yesterday and it tells the story of the day – the tenderness between the bride and her grandmother at the hairdressers; the emotional reaction of the guests to the speeches; the family heirlooms passed down from mother to daughter, father to son.  These deeply important aspects of their day are now captured forever, digitally and physically.

What a privilege it was to photograph their special day, what an absolute treasure this book will be for their children and grandchildren … family history in the making.

I feel that the most likely reason, is that we recently took our eldest son Thomas – he of photographic fame – up to Catterick Barracks to begin his six week basic Army training with The Rifles.

Thomas has always wanted to be a soldier – his granddad Tom taught him how to shine his boots; the safe way to hold and shoot a gun; Granddad Tom taught and encouraged Thomas in so many ways and passed on his knowledge of all things ‘army’.

Granddad Tom played such an important part, perhaps part of my sadness is that he is no longer with us to share in Thomas’ dream.

Louise

So imagine my pleasure when my great-uncle, very kindly leant to me some photos and a scrap book.  In amongst the photos and electricity board magazines was a letter written on a series of postcards dated the 18 January 1942 by a 20 year old Jack; the letter was written fifteen days after his marriage to Mary Ellen Densham, my gran from his RAF posting in Edinburgh.

You might say well what’s all the fuss about, its only a letter, surely there are many more letters and cards in the family archives.  He must have returned home and spent many happy years with his wife and family.  Unfortunately, the answer is that he did not.

Jack spent the war years as an electrician in the RAF and was fortunate enough to be posted close enough to his family to visit most weekends.  He survived the war and came out of the RAF in 1946, but just 5 years later he was dead,  Jack was 30.

I’ve wanted to know this man, my grandad for so many years – what was he like; how did he speak; was he funny and enjoy a joke?  Was he thoughtful and kind, would he have loved me as much as I loved him?

Although Jack’s youngest siblings are still with us, the age gap is quite large – Jack was 12 when his brother Tom was born, 18 when Bob arrived and 20 when Edward appeared, they remember very little of him.  My father remembers even less, he was nine when his father passed away and because of Jack’s illness, my Dad only really remembers him sitting in a chair in the corner with a patch over his eye and them both listening to Dick Barton.

There are only three photos of Jack with his family – my Gran showed me them just months before she died and for the first time in my life, I saw how much she still loved and missed him.

My Gran had an inner strength, a lady who was not an ‘over the top’ sort of person.  But she was fun – she let me sleep in her lovely big bed when I’d insisted on staying the night; she made me cheese sandwiches and let me stay up later than I should; and her Saturday dinners were the best I’ve ever tasted in my life and I knew, without a doubt she loved me.

I imagine that the man she married must have had complementary qualities.  I know he was a sporting man, regularly winning table tennis trophies; he played cricket and in his younger days was good at athletics.

Jack’s letter tells me more – it tells me that he was thoughtful and interested in his family.  He is confident and comfortable in his own skin.  He talks of a film he watched that was “an unusual sort of a film but very interesting”.  He talks of intending to watch “Hibernians and Motherwell play”.  He looks forward to “having a little chat” with his mother next time he’s over, because it was “such a rush last time”.

Through reading Jack’s letter I have a more rounded picture of the man he was, a family man just starting his life, albeit during the second world war, he had a new wife and his life stretched out before him.  A man who loved his mother, father and his siblings – the apple of his mother’s eye.

Jack was buried alongside his grandfather Sydney Wallace Dillon in October 1951, my Gran did not remarry.

I look forward, one day, to meeting him.

Louise

I first became acquainted with the watch when it was handed to me to take along to the Antiques Roadshow in March 1996 -”you never know it might be worth something” said Granny.

Unfortunately Geoffrey Munn was not impressed with my offering and asked who on earth had decided to clean it?  I said that I didn’t know.  He pointed out that someone had cleaned so hard that the numerals had come off of the face thus limiting its value to approximately £100.

I dutifully reported back to Granny, whom I think was a little disappointed.  However she soon recovered and sat me down and told me how it had been given to her mother Gertrude Harrison for her 21st birthday by her parents Eliza and Henry Harrison and so to her the watch was priceless.

It was at this point of the proceedings that Granny informed me that she would be leaving the watch to me in her will and asked if I wanted to know what else she had left me, I replied that “that was not my business Granny!” – she just laughed.  Looking back she wanted me to understand and appreciate how important this watch was to her and that it was a precious link her mother and that this link was to be passed down to me.

I’ve recently done a little research into the watch as I had forgotten all the wise words Geoffrey had spoken.  The watch was made by the French makers Guivre, in 18 carat gold.  The case is marked with Mercury, the French export small guarantee hallmark.  The case also bears the number 19170 which I believe indicates the case design.

Etched faintly on the inside rim of the case are a series of numbers ’26297 mk’ – I can only presume at the moment that this may be the mark of the watchmaker who assembled the watch or perhaps of the jeweller who sold the piece – who knows.

I’ve talked so much about my Granny in recent blogs that I feel I really ought to introduce her to you all properly – so with love I give you Doris Gill nee Star, my Granny.

These pencils are not so much jewels but instead represent a way of life which has largely disappeared – these are the elegant but practical jewels of bygone days.

As with a few of the objects included in this series these pencils were found in the belonginings of Ethel Star my Great Aunt and because of where and who last owned these items, there can only be two possible candidates.

These two ladies, I believe, would be either Agnes Downham or Eliza Hopkins – my 2 x great grandmothers on my mum’s side.  They both came from comfortable backgrounds – Agnes from Chippenham and Eliza from Leighton Buzzard.

I first became aware of the story of ‘the star’ from Doris Star (aka Granny), whilst she was recuperating at home after a long stint in hospital, I was sat keeping her company as she reminisced about the family’s past characters and events.

Doris explained that ‘the star’ had belonged to her father Cecil Star and was designed to hang from his watch chain, she remembered it well.

Cecil died at the relatively young age of 53 and reading between the lines I would say that Doris was the apple of his eye, she had certainly felt his death keenly at the tender ago of 19.

After Doris’ death 2010 there was some speculation that the blue stone in the middle was a sapphire but on a recent visit to the  BBC’s Antiques Road Show I was reliably informed by Geoffrey Munn that it was in fact blue glass.  The hallmark is difficult to read but Geoffery felt that it had been made in Birmingham in approximately 1897.